


Might Have Scraped My Knees When I Crawled Out of Hell

by Selador



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hell Trauma, M/M, Other, POV Adam Milligan, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 05:47:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4907731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selador/pseuds/Selador
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam digs his way out of Hell and walks out into the California surburbia currently functioning as a Hellmouth, Beacon Hills.</p><p>Written for Midam Week 2015, but man, am I shit at sticking to the prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dizzy

**Author's Note:**

> Day 01: September 27  
> • Prompt: Dizzy (adj.) - having or involving a sensation of spinning around and losing one’s balance.

He wakes to dirt in his mouth, pain behind his eyes, and pain in his eyes. He swallows the dirt out of surprise, but that is much less of a concern that being surrounded by dirt. Being buried alive. Well—he is now alive. He wasn’t before.

Though after tearing his way through Hell, being buried alive doesn’t even rank. But still. There is no need to stop now, not when he is so close—

He digs his way out. He doesn’t fear suffocation but he idly notes that he never seems to run out of oxygen. He wonders what else will be different.

His hands pierce the surface; light and air filter through. He is in a foggy forest—nowhere near Wisconsin. The plants are all wrong. He doesn’t know where he is.

He pulls himself out of the dirt, and circles around. It only makes him dizzy, and his surroundings blur. He collapses on the ground and he lies there until the world settles and the blue sky above him is as solid and steady as his beating heart. His beating heart—because he is alive, again. After so long in Hell, it is unreal. The freshness of the air makes him cough, and hurts his head. The quiet—the lack of screaming, tortured souls—is unnerving, now.

When he is ready, he gets up. There is nothing but forest around him on all sides.

Nothing is worse than where he came from. He walks.


	2. Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even in Beacon Hills, a teenaged boy covered and dirt and blood walking through town in the middle of the day is unusual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 02: September 28  
> • Prompt: Secret (adj.) - not known or seen or not meant to be known or seen by others. / (n.) something that is kept or meant to be kept unknown or unseen by others.

He finds a town. Suburbia. It looks nice. 

It doesn’t matter if it’s not. They’ll have showers. He’s not sure if he still needs to eat, but he would like to. 

The town is pleasantly busy, but people avoid him with fear in their eyes. And that is—not unfamiliar. The scenery is better than it was in Hell. He can deal with fear.

A cop car gently pulls up next to him. The window rolls down, and the officer leans a casual elbow on the door. 

He keeps walking, and the cop gets out of his car and follows him. Catches up.

“Hey there, son,” the officer says. Friendly. Paternal. He realizes suddenly how grizzly he must look, after digging his way out of the ground and crawling out of Hell... He looks down to his clothes and they are—not as bad as he expected. Dirty. Thin. Ripped. There’s blood on them, but the stains so dark that he doesn’t think anyone would know what they were right away.

“You look like you’ve had a rough time of it,” the officer says. Rough. Right. “Would you mind telling me what happened to you?”

He stares at the officer. He already stopped walking; he doesn’t remember making a decision on that. The officer’s hand isn’t on his gun, not yet, but that could change. 

But he couldn’t speak. Couldn’t explain what happened to him. He couldn’t—he couldn’t—

“Easy there,” the officer says. “Why don’t you come down to the station with me and we’ll get you cleaned up?”

Clean. Yes.

…

There is a shower in the station for the officers, and they let him use it. They take the dirty clothes from him, but they give him clean ones. 

They ask him his name, much later, after he is clean and clothed and can speak.

“Adam Milligan,” he says, because that is his name. It is the only thing he has left of his mother, and the only thing he had in Hell to keep himself together. “My name is Adam Milligan.” Not Winchester. Never Winchester. No matter how many times Zachariah or Michael or Lucifer tried to tell him so. 

The officer from before—not an officer, the sheriff—nods like that means something to him. Maybe it does. Adam’s been in Hell, after all. Anything could have happened while he was under.

“And what happened to you Adam?”

Adam doesn’t know how to respond to that.

There’s a tap on the glass, and then another one. It sounds urgent to Adam, and seems to be so to the sheriff. He gives a tight smile, and leaves the room. 

Adam stares at the blank wall while he waits. He doesn’t know what to do now. He wanted to escape Hell—and he has.

What now?

There’s always Dean and Sam…

He owes them a visit. More than a visit.

Before Adam can do anything with the icy wrath that’s curling into his chest and seeping into his blood, the sheriff walks back in. He has a peculiar expression on his face.

“Adam Milligan,” the sheriff says. “You’ve been gone for a long time.”

Adam stares. Does the sheriff know…?

“You went missing in 2009,” the sheriff says, cutting through the encroaching silence. Adam would speak more, but he doesn’t know what to say. 

“Yeah,” Adam says, finally. 

“It’s 2013.”

“Oh.” That’s not as long as he expected.

“You’ve been missing for four years.”

“Yes. I did the math.”

“Can you explain where you’ve been?”

I’ve been in Hell, because angels are liars who want to destroy the world. He can’t say that. I tore my way through demons, because I wanted out. He couldn’t say that either. I was dead. I’m better now. He could possibly say that. 

His wrath hasn’t gone away. But it gives way to an idea that tastes like vengeance. 

“I was kidnapped.”

The sheriff nods. Sympathetic. Unsurprised. Adam supposed that ‘dead’ would not be the first guess on most people’s part. He looks encouraging, so Adam tries to find the words. “I was kidnapped by… Dean and Sam… Winchester. They’re—they’re my brothers. Half-brothers,” Adam says, because he wants to distance them from himself as much as possible. Now the sheriff looks surprised.

“Dean and Sam Winchester,” the sheriff says slowly, like he’s not sure he understands. “You mean the serial killers?”

That’s news to Adam—but it works in his favor. Maybe it’s all of the demons they kill? And all of the bodies they leave. Actually, it makes perfect sense. “Yes, them. They kidnapped me. They—they killed my mom. They took me with them, tried to make me one of them, and I—and I—” 

“It’s okay, son. Do you know where they are now?”

“No,” and it’s not even a lie. He would like to know. “I escaped.”

The questions continue. Most of them Adam can’t answer—but it is fine. The police chalk it up to trauma, which isn’t wrong, anyway.

Then they have to decide what to do with him.

There’s a lot of hurried whispers, and paper-shifting. Adam tunes it out. He doesn’t care. News of his story will travel and Dean and Sam will come to him—or they won’t. If they don’t because they are dead—good riddance. If they don’t because they don’t care—well. Adam might need to pay them a visit. 

Adam can roll with whatever. It’s not like he’s running out of time anytime soon.

…

He gets in a car with Sheriff Stilinski and they go.

“I have a son only a few years younger than you,” the sheriff says. “And I’m due for a break, anyway. Also didn’t think you’d want to sleep in a holding cell.”

“It would have been an improvement,” Adam says honestly. It takes the sheriff a few seconds to respond to that.

“Well. We have a guest bedroom. It’ll have to do.”

The house is nice. It’s middle-class suburbia after all. 

“Why am I staying with you?”

“Our department is pretty small,” says the sheriff. “And your… Dean and Sam Winchester actually fall into the FBI’s jurisdiction. My house is a safe place to stay while we wait, and you can get rest in an actual bed.”

There’s another cop car, but it stops on the street and stays there. 

Adam thinks about telling the sheriff that if Dean and Sam show up, three police officers won’t be enough to stop them. But he doesn’t—Adam can stop them now. 

Adam can stop anything that comes his way.

Even demons.

Even angels.

…

There is a teenaged boy looking at him. Technically speaking, Adam is also a teenaged boy, though officially, he’s supposes he’s twenty-one. This is a more teenagerish teenaged boy, though.

Who is staring at Adam.

Adam stares back.

The boy fidgets. “So, uh, kidnapped? How was that?” and looks instantly stricken. 

“Literally torture,” Adam responds.

“Uh, right, yeah. Sorry.”

“Right.”

Adam lies back down on the bed. It’s soft, he’s clean, and no one is trying to kill him yet. 

“Oh, uh, are you going to sleep? Yeah, I’ll just—yeah,” and the door shuts.

Adam goes to sleep.

…

The boy’s friend is afraid of Adam. Which, actually—smart. They should be afraid of Adam. The friend is also not human, but he’s not a ghoul, angel, or demon, so Adam isn’t particularly bothered by that.

Not that Adam is going to do anything. Why would he want to hurt innocent people, after he had been so hurt himself? Adam might have been to Hell and back, but he remembers what terror and death felt like, when he didn’t know, when he didn’t understand, when he was a college student, when he didn’t deserve any of this.

The boy’s friend—Scott—comes over more often, despite his fear. Adam is at the sheriff’s house so he can be safe with the sheriff, and the sheriff’s son was forbidden to wander around. “If your, well, if Dean and Sam Winchester are in the area, I’d rather keep you both where I can see you,” the sheriff said, over dinner.

“You wouldn’t be able to keep us safe from Dean and Sam,” Adam replied.

“Well,” the sheriff said, a sad look in his eyes. “I have to try.”

Stiles—the sheriff’s son—glared at Adam. The next day, Scott arrived, and never left. The sheriff wouldn’t let his son leave, so his friends would have to come to him. In addition to Scott, there are three girls and four boys. Of them, only two of the girls and one of the boys seem unbothered by Adam’s mere presence. The others react similarly to Scott; terrified. The ones who are terrified recognize him as not quite human, as they, like Scott, are also not human. And are all the same thing. They begin to converge at the Stilinski household, and Adam feels like they are trying to protect Stiles from Adam.

But it doesn’t really matter. Adam likes his bed. He likes his shower. He’s missed sleep the most, all those millennia in Hell. They can keep their secrets, as long as they don’t bother him. 

He just wants to sleep.


End file.
